Lineage
by Kuldaboli
Summary: A little story set beyond "At World's End".
1. Chapter 1

First a little disclaimer: I own none of this stuff. I hold no rights to any of the characters, or anything mentioned in this fanfic. I'm just using the genius of others and bending it to amuse myself and others. I hope you enjoy the story. =)

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"And that, my dear, is the tale of William Turner and Elizabeth Swann."

The young girl stared in slack jawed wonder at her grandmother, who had just finished telling her the most amazing story. A story of pirates and treasure; of big battles at sea between the ruthless East India Trading Company and the Brethren court of pirates; of cursed creatures from the depths of the sea and men enslaved by the promise of life eternal and the fear of death. And a tale of love; the kind you only hear about once in a lifetime. True and pure.

"Did they ever see each other again, gran? William and Elizabeth?" The girl's question was so innocent and heartfelt that her grandmother chuckled.

"Yes, my dear." She replied kindly. "They saw each other for 1 day, every 10 years."

"That isn't very much." The girl frowned. "How can they be in love if they only see each other so rarely?"

"The heart is very powerful, Rosalie." The old woman cupped the girl's chin as she smiled at her. "You don't need to see the person you love every day to remember them. Even if such a long time passes that you can no longer see them in your mind's eye, your heart still swells at the mere thought of them. Your heart never forgets."

"And they never forgot one another?" The girl whispered, her big brown eyes alight with wonder.

"Never." Her grandmother whispered.

"But what did Elizabeth do after William had to return to the sea?"

"Well, Elizabeth was the king of the Brethren court of pirates. She had a big job ahead of her."

"Did she manage to unite them all under one flag?" The old woman chortled at the girl's renewed enthusiasm.

"Now now. That is a tale for another time. It is time for young girls to go to bed."

"But gran…?!" the young girl whined.

"Rosalie!" Came a brisk female voice from the door to the cabin, making the girl jump and whirl around to face the door. In the doorway stood a young woman, dressed in the finest silk gown to be found in London. "Why are you still up?! You should have been in bed hours ago!"

"But mother, I…" The girl tried, only for the woman to cut her off.

"I will hear no excuses, Rosalie!"

"Emily, please." The old woman interrupted, "If anyone is to blame it is I. She asked for a story before bed and I obliged her." This did not seem to please the young woman at all.

"Are you still filling her head with fairytales?!" She hissed, her dark eyes blazing. "How many times have I told you not to?!"

"She is a child, Emily. And children should be allowed to be children."

"She has been accepted into the Everhearst Royal Academy for young women! She has the potential to make something of her life!"

"Rosalie, dear." The old woman got up from her chair and held a hand out to the girl. "Why don't you go to bed now."

"But gran, I'm n—"

"How many times have I instructed you in the proper way to address your grandmother?!" The girl's mother snapped briskly. The girl winced and drew back from her mother.

"Emily!" The old woman snapped in a tone that belied her years, holding up a hand to forestall any further outbursts from the woman. "She is my granddaughter; and granddaughters always have a right to call their grans by whatever endearing name they choose." Emily bristled, but held her tongue. "Now, Rosalie?" The old woman turned back to her granddaughter, "Why don't you be a good girl and head off to bed now. It is very late and your gran is a tired old woman after all."

"Will you tell me another story tomorrow?" The child looked up at her grandmother beseechingly. The old woman's smile faltered for a moment as she gazed back into the girl's eyes. It was as if something had gone through her mind that hindered her in giving the girl a straight answer.

"We shall see." She said finally, her kind smile returning as she ran a gentle hand along the girl's cheek. "Now, give your gran a hug." The girl embraced her grandmother and the old woman kissed her on the top of her head as she held her tight. "Keep her safe." The old woman's whisper, almost sounding like a prayer, was barely audible.

"You shouldn't encourage her like that, mother!" Emily's voice, though hard, was low; just barely above a whisper. She had closed the door after Rosalie had left her grandmother's cabin, heading for her bed in the company of her nanny.

The old woman watched her daughter for a moment. "And why not?" She finally said. "She is interested in the tales I have to tell."

"She is a child!" Emily snapped. "I will not let you fill her head with nonsense!"

"Nonsense?!" The old woman guffawed. "Just because you chose to ignore my stories, dismissing them as fairytales, does not--!"

"That is all they are!" Emily snapped back, cutting her mother's words short. "Ridiculous tales of pirates and sea monsters! Filling her head with fantasy! I won't have it; do you hear me?!"

The old woman gazed at her daughter in silence. "You used to enjoy those same stories." She said quietly after a while. "When you were younger." Emily stiffened, obviously unnerved by the reminder. "You would ask me to tell them to you again and again. 'Tell me the tale of Jack Sparrow, mother', you would say, 'And the Black Pearl'. You would beg me to tell them to you; even though you'd heard them countless times before."

"I have wizened up since then!" Emily said briskly. "Fairytales are for children!"

"And Rosalie is not a child?"

"She is on the verge of becoming a young woman! I will not have you drag her back down into naiveté at this crucial time!"

The old woman turned toward the bed and picked up a shawl that was draped across the covers. "Everyone should be allowed to dream, Emily." She said quietly as she pulled the shawl around her shoulders. She turned to face her daughter, studying her face. "When did you stop dreaming?"

The young woman's eyes shone brightly in the light from the lanterns hanging from the ceiling; hanging perfectly still. The sea was too calm. The ship was dead still in the water. "When you refused to tell me the truth about my father!" Her voice was brittle.

"I did tell you the truth about him, Emily." The old woman's words made the young woman scoff and turn toward the door. Emily grabbed the doorknob and turned… but then hesitated.

"Was he taken by the sea?" Her voice was barely a whisper and her tone was weak; fragile. "Is that the reason you spend so much time sailing from port to port?" The old woman watched her daughter's back, her heart aching in her chest. "Is it that you hope that someday you might look across the bow and see him?"

"Emily…"

"For once, could you please just tell me the truth!" Her hard tone had returned, though it was laced with brittle sorrow. "Was he taken by the sea?"

"No." The old woman whispered. "He is the sea." Another scoff from Emily answered these words.

"Goodnight, mother!" She drawled as she flung the door to the cabin open and stormed out, leaving the old woman alone with her thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

"Evening, ma'am." The captain gave a smile and curt bow as the old woman came on deck.

"Evening, Captain." The old woman replied, returning the smile.

"Shouldn't you be in your cabin, ma'am; resting?" The captain asked kindly.

The old woman gave a little chortle. "I have rested quite enough on this journey, captain, thank you." She gazed out over the dead calm sea, her gaze somber. "Most peculiar." She whispered, surveying the pitch black horizon, lit only by the bright moonlight. "These conditions; not the kind one is used to on the high seas."

"Indeed." The captain's gaze followed hers toward the horizon. "In all my years as a man of the sea, I have never come across such a dead calm. Many of the men are quite unnerved by it."

"As well they should be." The old woman raised her head to look up the masts. The sails hung limp, catching not even an inkling of wind. "There was a time when a calm such as this was an omen to ill fates."

"Aye." The captain nodded sagely. "The calm before the storm."

"That is one way to voice it, yes."

"You would voice it differently, ma'am?"

The old woman's gaze returned to scanning the dark horizon. "I would say it is an omen; but to something… quite extraordinary."

The captain smiled as he mulled that one over. "Extraordinary… A word that can be interpreted many ways."

"Quite." The old woman said in a voice barely above a distracted whisper. She felt something; something approaching. Though unseen, she knew it was there; just beyond her perception. And it was calling to her! Its whisper of her name carried by the nonexistent wind. "What fantastic things await this night?" She whispered distractedly.

"Ma'am?" The captain had barely heard her. The old woman paid him no heed, but frowned a little as she stared out toward the horizon, straining to hear the whispers in her ear. "Ma'am, are you alright?" The old woman raised her hand a bit to forestall any further words from the captain, and he fell silent instantly. The whispers were mere faint breaths of voices, all jumbled up together in a cacophony of beautiful wind; though not a hair on her head stirred. Mixed and jumbled, the whispers grew louder, a beautiful symphony of faint sounds, calling to her; enticing her! Then, abruptly, the sound ceased; leaving everything dead silent. She strained to hear something through the eerie quiet; to hear some inkling of the whispers that had been there mere seconds before…

"It is time." The three whispered words came through clear as the breath in her lungs. She knew that voice!! As long as she lived, she would never… ever… forget that voice!! It was integrated into her soul; molded into her very being! He was coming!!

"Captain…" she said quietly, her gaze fixed on a point on the horizon, "clear the deck."

"Pardon?" The captain spluttered, obviously having been caught off guard by her words. She turned her head to face him, giving him a small smile.

"I would be most grateful if you would be so kind as to order each and every man to head bellow deck."

"Whatever for, ma'am?" The captain spluttered.

"I would like an hour to myself." She said simply. "Up here."

"But, ma'am…" The captain tried to argue. "These men have duties. I cannot just ask them to abandon their stations and—"

"You are the captain, are you not? What you say goes as far as the crew is concerned."

"Well, yes, but who will navigate the ship?"

The old woman glanced up toward the limp sails and her smile filled with mirth. "The ship isn't going anywhere, captain. No navigation is required."

"Ma'am… I must protest, I—"

"It's alright, captain." The old woman's smile widened. "What harm could befall an old lady like myself on a vessel as grand as this? And as well fortified."

The captain blinked a few times, clearly dumbstruck at the woman's request. "Well… ma'am, I…"

The woman rested a gentle hand on the captain's arm. "I would consider it a special favor to me if you would."

A tiny unsure smile appeared on the captain's lips. He was definitely not alright with this. "As you wish, ma'am." He gave a small bow.

"Thank you, captain." The old woman smiled.

"No need to thank me, ma'am. After all, it is your ship." The old woman let out a soft chuckle. The captain had a point. She was the owner of this ship, so, technically, her word was law. The Captain turned to his first officer. "Mr. Tanner. Clear the deck. I want every man below decks for a full hour."

"Sir?" The first officer queried in confusion.

"You heard me, Mr. Tanner; every man below decks for a full hour; by order of the ship's owner."

"Aye, captain." The first officer replied, and then turned to address the crew as a whole. "All hands! Clear the deck!" he shouted, the command being echoed all around by other crewmembers. Immediately, the crew finished what they were doing and set off for the bowls of the ship. The first officer was the last to leave, leaving the captain and the old woman alone on deck.

"You are quite sure you will be alright, ma'am?" The captain asked, sounding worried.

"Quite certain, captain." the old woman smiled. "Thank you."

"Very well, ma'am." The captain gave another small bow and then disappeared below decks with the rest of the crew.

The old woman's smile faltered. It was time! She hadn't expected this to happen so suddenly. But this was the way it was meant to be. You never got a warning of any kind for these things. She had set her affairs in order long ago, so she knew everything would be well taken care of. She turned toward the horizon again. The tide was coming in. And with it came a strange mist; moving toward the ship despite there being no wind to drive it

"I am ready." She whispered into the darkness. The mist moved closer, with a speed that was creepy and yet so reassuring; blocking out the light from the moon. It glided silently across the deck of the ship, rising to encase it in its embrace. She closed her eyes, feeling safe and secure in the mist's embrace. It wasn't cold as she had expected. It was warm; filled with kindness. Her voice was a mere whisper… "I am ready."


	3. Chapter 3

A pair of small hands appeared over the top of a barrel on deck; followed by the top of a golden haired head and a pair of deep brown eyes peeking over the top. Rosalie had given her nanny the slip and found her way up on deck, following her grandmother after seeing her mother storm out of the cabin with tears in her eyes. Rosalie was a very curious little girl. Everything that was outside the norm of her strict upper class upbringing was fascinating to her; especially if it had an air of mystery to it. Her grandmother had just asked the captain to clear the deck, and he had eventually obeyed, leaving her and her grandmother alone on the deck. But her grandmother didn't know that she wasn't alone.

The mist came closer, slowly engulfing the skip up to the tip of the highest mast and beyond. Rosalie's heart beat faster in her chest and the unease settled within her. This wasn't right! There was no wind! How could this mist move so fast?! She was able to make out the figure of her grandmother, standing near the gunnels, whispering something to the mist. The little girl's breath quickened in fear. What was happening? What was her grandmother doing? It was then that she saw it; a hand slowly reaching out of the mist to take solid form; reaching for her grandmother. Rosalie wanted to scream! To warn her grandmother that something was reaching out for her! But her voice caught in her throat as the mist took shape before the old woman. The hand was not just a hand anymore. It came with an arm, a shoulder, a torso, a second arm, a head, legs, feet… It was a person! A handsome young man! His dark hair was kept from his face by the sash around his forehead and his shirt was flowing, showing his bare chiseled chest… Rosalie's eyes went impossibly wide. There, on his chest, right over his heart, was a long scar! As if his heart had been cut out of his chest! Rosalie knew that scar! She'd just heard her grandmother tell her of it in the story she'd just told her! She knew who this was!

"William Turner…!" The little girl whispered in awe. The Captain of the Flying Dutchman! It had to be!


	4. Chapter 4

The touch on her cheek was so gentle… so precious, that the old woman felt her breath catch in her throat. How long she had longed for that touch! Opening her eyes, she saw a blurry image through her tears. There he was! So beautiful! So angelic! Exactly as he had been the last time she had seen him! He smiled at her, his deep dark eyes so full of kindness.

"You came…" She whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

"I could never break a promise to you." He said softly. The old woman's lips trembled and she gently covered his hand on her cheek with her own.

"It's my time now, isn't it?" She said as a tear slipped from her eye, hitting his wrist.

"Yes." He said softly.

"And you've come to do your duty." She looked up at him. He wasn't smiling anymore. The sadness in his eyes spoke volumes. "You've come to ferry me across to the land of the dead."

"No…" He shook his head slightly, his gaze fixed on hers. "I've come to take you with me."

"W- what…?" her surprise was overshadowed by her emotions.

"Come with me." It sounded like he was almost pleading with her. "Come sail the seas with me. It will be just you and I; forever."

The old woman gazed up at him, hope in her eyes, but then she looked away, the sadness almost overpowering her. "No." She said softly. "I can't…"

He frowned in confusion at her response. "But…" He seemed lost for words.

"I am an old woman." her voice trembled, "You couldn't possibly want me. Not after all this time." She shook her head in sorrow. "I'm withered and frail." His fingers came under her chin and gently guided her head back up to look at him again. That beautiful smile graced his handsome features again.

"Not to me." He said softly as he shook his head. His eyes shone with sincerity. "Never to me." He moved closer to her, his hands cupping her face so gently. She felt her heart racing in her chest as he moved closer still… and when their lips touched, it was like magic coursed through her entire body.

Around them, the mist started swirling, creating a wind of a non natural nature; one that only seemed to affect the old woman. It whipped at her hair and pulled at her dress, but she felt none of it. The kiss was heavenly! Her gown started slowly dissolving; almost as if the unnatural wind was peeling away layers of it in strips and patches. Her hair, trapped in its tight bun came loose and swirled around her head. Her hand found his cheek and the kiss deepened. She never wanted to leave him again!

Strands of her light grey hair began shifting color; becoming more and more golden. Underneath her windswept and dissolving dress, a much darker layer of clothing started to appear. Her posture seemed to slowly straighten and the wrinkles on her face and her hands started smoothing themselves out.

Hidden behind her barrel, little Rosalie's dark brown eyes were wide in awe and wonder at the sight before her. Her grandmother… she was changing right before her very eyes! Becoming younger…! More statuesque…! Regal!!

As the last strands of the old woman's dissolving dress vanished into the mist, the unnatural wind began dying down until finally, all was still in the unnatural mist. The kiss breaking, the old woman stared into the young man's eyes. She felt… different. Confused, she let her gaze drift to the side a bit and then back to his eyes… but what she'd seen made her do a double take and stare at her hand as it rested on the young man's cheek.

Her hand… was smooth! Long graceful fingers greeted her with skin so smooth she would have sworn they were the fingers of a young woman in her early 20's! The skin was a honey golden color of one that has known the open sea and the gentle kiss of the sun! She hadn't been so tan in years!

"W- what…" She stammered and the sound of her own voice startled her enough to bring her fingers to her lips. It hadn't wavered! It had sounded like the voice of a young woman! What her fingers found surprised her just as much. Lips that felt full and soft to the touch! The lips of a sensual young woman! Her fingers began their exploration of her face, trembling as they did so. They found a perfectly smooth cheek… a sculpted jaw… a straight delicate nose… a high wrinkle-free forehead… and then they found her hair! Long silky smooth locks! Bringing one to the front so that she could see it, her eyes went impossibly wide at the sight that greeted her. The golden lock seemed to shine; even in the pitch blackness of the night. And only then did she notice the sleeve that her hand protruded from. It was black silk of the finest quality found in the orient; embroidered with the finest thread of gold. Raising both hands up to take a look at what she was wearing, she looked the garment over. It was a belted jacket, and she now found that she wore matching pants and a pair of black shoes with slightly curved toes. She knew these garments! She knew when she had last worn them! But that had been ages ago!

"Will…?" She breathed as she looked up into his face again. She was so confused! He smiled at her; that angelic smile so heartwarming. And she felt her confusion melting away. This was how he saw her. No matter how old she got or how she changed, to him, she would always remain the same. Because this was how she had looked the last time he had been human.

"Come with me." He said softly. His hand came up to gently cup her cheek and she felt herself melt into his touch, her eyes brimming with tears of joy and happiness. "Be with me; forever." She bit her lip, the longing to stay with him so strong that it nearly burned her from the inside.

"Yes…" She whispered and looked up at him again. Her smile was brittle but so very genuine. She could never have hoped for anything like this in her wildest dreams. To be reunited with him.

"My darling wife." He whispered; his smile so full of love for her. "My sweet Elizabeth."


End file.
